


Do You See You as I See You?

by 0zey, Actual_Pixie, syaniidimuffinsi



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Non-Sexual Slavery, OCs for plot movement only, Slavery, major personality switch, temporary disability
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4575159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0zey/pseuds/0zey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actual_Pixie/pseuds/Actual_Pixie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/syaniidimuffinsi/pseuds/syaniidimuffinsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danarius and Leto/Fenris's relationship from beginning to end told from both points of view. </p><p>Note: Please read the tags! This starts out pretty light then gets really messed up. </p><p>Note 2: this is a WIP (Now with shiny new tittle!)  and as such is prone to a lot of changes, like moving chapters and disappearing paragraphs, read at your own risk :P</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> This is a co-writen endeavor, (aka a RP) between Lowlipop and myself. Edited by me to read a little better in places and Beta read by the lovely syaniidimuffinsi. A big thanks to both for helping make this little thought bunny a reality. :)
> 
>  
> 
> We are all on tumbler! Lowlipop as: actual-pixie , syaniidimuffinsi as well: syaniidimuffinsi , and myself as: 0zey . come check us out. 
> 
> -0zey

It is said that before you die your life flashes before your eyes, for Danarius this cliché held true to a certain extant. He remembered many things, the day his magic showed for the first time, a feastday spent hiding under a chair in the grate dinning hall watching the lords and ladies of the magisterium eat and drink themselves in to stupors, and his fifth name day, where the only gift he received from his parents was a letter of acceptance to Carastes collage of mages. It was possibly the only present from either that he every truly appreciated in the whole of his life. No, that was untrue, there was one other. One that had shaped his life, for better or worse, many things where set into motion the day he had reserved it and to his very last moment, Danarius could never bring himself to regret accepting the gift, even though it looked very much like it may be the death of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danarius squinted in concentration at the flickering mage light hovering between his hands. It was not that the spell was hard, it was one of the first an apprentice learned after all, however Danarius was rather bored and thus was attempting change the color. It was not something he thought many mages tried to do, after all why try to fix what wasn’t broken? When an apprentice cast the mage light for the first time it was always a different color for each mage, but as they gained control over there magic the color would fade out until it was pure white. It was a phenomena that fascinated Danarius in an idle way. So at times like these where he had nothing that required his attention he would conjure the light and attempt to turn it back to the purple gold it had been the first time. Sadly the best he had managed so fare was a light yellow tinge. 

It was late afternoon after his classes, and he was seated under a large willow in the courtyard waiting on his mother, or more likely a servant sent by her, to collect him like forgotten shopping, so that he might attend his own seventeenth name-day party the next day. He would have much rather stayed at the college.

Danarius was no longer an apprentice but had yet to graduate from the Carastes circle, and He loved it here, the grand library, his studies, and learning for the pure joy of it. The study of lyrium in particular drew him in, it held such untaped potential, power, and mystery that not even the dwarves that mined it truly knew where it came from. 

It seemed today was not to be the day he broke the mystery of mage light however, when distraction came in the form of a small cough alerting him to the arrival of his mother’s servant, come to take him home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The carriage pulled up to the front entrance of the Danarius Minrathous house with moderate fanfare, the payed servants and a few of the house slaves lined up on the grand staircase to welcome there young master home, His family held another estate on Seheron island, but Danarius’ father liked to stay in the capital most of the time so that he might be closer to the seat of the magisterium. Personal Danarius preferred the island estate, it was quieter. Located close to the mainland’s cost it rarely saw any of the fighting that the rest of the island was subject to. He missed the days he was aloud to go there for his name-day instead of being paraded about for his father and mother’s so called friends to faun over, But he was turning seventeen, legally an adult, able to clam his father’s place on the council if something where to happen to the man, eligible to marry as well. Not that Danarius had any interest in either. 

As He disembarked the carriage Danarius noted that only his mother stood with the assembled household. It had been almost six months since he had seen his family, but it appeared that even that was not enough to pull his father from his work.

He executed a somewhat sloppy bow in greeting to his mother awaiting to usual curt greeting in return. He was not disappointed.

“May the maker smile on my this day, my son. I see all that education at the circle has done nothing to help you slovenly habits.” His mother intoned flicking her eyes down his rumpled and inc stained robes to his flyaway dishwater blond hair. 

Danarius felt a quick flash of shame, he had tried. It wasn’t his fault if the collage slaves didn’t know what an iron or spot washing was. 

“No mater.” Went on the impeccably groomed woman with a slight sniff. “Your father will not be able to join us this day, but has sent on his gift to you. With luck it will be of use.” Indicating a small dark haired elf boy to her left that until now Danarius had not taken notice of. “As heir to the Danarius name you can not be without an attendant.” 

Danarius did his best to hide the slight sinking sensation in his stomach at his mother’s words. Ah, the joys of adult hood. Now he had someone to push him into stiff, uncomfortable cloths every day, and not just when he visited his family home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leto tried to tell himself there was nothing to be afraid of. He'd known this was coming, known he was at the age where children were usually taken from their mothers and sold to new masters. The humans didn't like to keep families together, or so he was told; it encouraged a loyalty to something other than their masters. Leto didn't know about any of that. His mother was a good slave, loyal, even after her two children were born, and she'd raised her children to be just as loyal and hardworking as she. He'd clung to her skirts when the magister came for him, knowing he deserved the admonishing looks from his mother and new master alike. It was embarrassingly juvenile of him, not to mention it made his mother look bad.

"A bit on the small side," the magister had commented. "But he'll grow yet. What are your skills, boy?"

Leto kept his gaze to the floor, flinching when his mother pushed him subtly forward so he seemed slightly more independent of her. "I-I can clean, I can.. cook, a little. That is, mother's been teaching me. I can tend some animals. For my old master I would feed and water the horses, and brush them every day."

The man looked him over, then seemed to make a decision. "You won't have to worry about cooking, or animals. I imagine you'll make a fine attendant with some training."

Leto nodded. "I will try my best," he promised. 

It all progressed very businesslike after that. The magister paid Leto's former master. Leto was given a moment to hug his mother before his new master had him brought to walk behind a carriage with a few other purchases, and just like that he left his childhood behind him and started life at eight years old as a man. 

The Danarius estate was very grand, opulently decorated in rich gold and Crimson. Leto was brought to a communal bathing chamber, washed and dressed in fine garments bearing the house colors. As a house slave, he was permitted slightly finer things than those assigned to outdoor work. Leto fingered the soft material of his tunic and hoped he pleased his new master so he could remain among these nice things. If he had to leave his family behind, this was at least a small comfort. 

His dark hair was combed, his bangs trimmed, and the black tresses were pulled into a small plait that came to rest on his shoulder. 

"Come," the overseer said, leading him to another room. "You are presentable now. It is time to meet your new master."

Leto was informed, as he was led to an assembly of other servants and slaves waiting on the front steps, that he was to be a gift for the magister's only son, as well as given a brief history of the family's background and the behavior that would be expected of him. His mind whirled with the new information, which he hoped to retain so he did not embarrass himself.

The lady of the house was a severe looking woman in a rich dress that matched the elegant surroundings. She was attractive beneath the pinch of her lips and narrowed eyes, however, and while clipped she was not rude in addressing him. Though she did refer to him as an it. Leto shifted a bit uncomfortably and kept his gaze rooted to the floor. 

He only looked up when the woman indicated him to her son - and even then it was just to take a quick look at the man who was his new master. Fine featured like his mother, though notably more disheveled. Leto performed a rigid bow, fidgeting with the hem of his tunic. 

"M-master," he greeted.


	2. First Impressions

Danarius glanced at the small boy only briefly before excusing himself to his rooms under the pretext of making himself more presentable for dinner. It would no doubt be a less then cosy affair with two or more lords and ladies joining his mother in hopes of furthering there social standing. 

He was a little disappointed when he noticed that the elf was fallowing a few steps behind him that he hadn’t been able to escape unaccompanied, but grudgingly impressed that the slave had shown the forethought to fallow his new master without being told to do so first. 

When they had made it to the relative safety of his rooms, Danarius lost no time in removing the stuffy over robes and ditching all pretext of formality by falling in a heap of over long limbs on to the sofa. Only then did he turn his attention to his new slave. The boy was young, barely old enough to leave his mother by the look of it, with unreally large eyes. 

“What is your name, bunny?” The moniker slipped out without any real thought behind it. The elf did resemble a little fluffy rabbit as he shifted from foot to foot, and surreptitiously twisted the hem of his tunic. It couldn’t be an easy thing to be handed off like that. Knowing it was coming never made the hurt less for Danarius when being dismissed by his mother, so why would it hurt the elf less to be given away by his? Or at lest that was what Danarius assumed happened when one so young was sold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The only thing Leto could think when Danarius hurriedly made an excuse to leave the room was that he'd already done something wrong. Maybe Danarius was displeased with just the look of him, or with having an elven slaves. Human slaves existed but elves were far more common. Still there were nobles who did not care to associate with them whatsoever. 

He hoped he didn't get dismissed to be a stablehand. 

He followed behind Danarius, because it seemed like what an attendant should do, and was fairly surprised when the young man promptly stripped off his outer garments and collapsed on the plush sofa. Leto looked around the large chamber, wondering if he was expected to do something. He didn't know where Danarius's clothes were kept, or what he would want to wear to dinner. So he stood awkwardly by the couch, trying not to look too intrigued by his surroundings. 

He jumped a little when he was addressed, cheeks coloring at the little nickname. He'd always hated the association of elves with rabbits, and he covered his ears with his hands, looking away. "I'm not a bunny," he said, then stopped, eyes widening as he realized how stupid it was to correct his master like that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danarius let loss a surprised choke of laughter at the elf’s out burst. He was pleasantly taken aback by the brashness. “Alright then, not a bunny.” He conceded pulling himself into a more upright position. “But if you’re not a rabbit what are you little one? A fox perhaps? Cunning and full of fight?” Danarius kept his voice light, teasing even, curious as to this new addition to his life’s reaction. If he could not take a bit of teasing then they would be off to a very bad start indeed.

As he waited for the elf to reply Danarius took a better look at his small companion. He was darker then Danarius was used to seeing in elves. Silken almost black hair that was held back in a neat braid, swarthy skin unmarked by the harsh reality of puberty as of yet, and those eyes. Large as he had noted before, and green, bright jewel green, like vail fire. They held a spirt that Danarius had never seen in a slave, it was almost defiant in it’s strength, even with the current fear that clouded them. “You needn’t fear me.” Danarius counted in a softer tone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danarius did not seemed displeased. He actually laughed, to Leto's surprise - though Leto knew better than to assume he hadn't over stepped his boundaries. He kept his eyes focused on the plush carpet beneath his feet, though he smiled a little when Danarius conceded to not calling him by that name. Though he seemed inclined to give him a nickname regardless. Maybe he didn't like Leto's birth name? 

A fox was better than a rabbit, Leto supposed, though he still did not like the comparison. For different reasons this time. Bunny alluded big eared, helpless and naive. While fox also covered big eared, it's connotation was more sinister and gave the impression of disloyalty. Leto wanted to be a good slave, to make his family proud by making his master proud. He was no deceitful fox. 

"I'm not afraid," he said honestly, because he wasn't, not of Danarius himself. "I only... I want to do well."

Danarius nodded his acceptance of the boys assurance. “Alright then little one. Let me try again. I am Dominicus of the house of Danarius. My only order right now is that you do not call me by my given name. However I would like to know yours.” He coaxed. “I am afraid my mother failed in her duty to introduce us.”

Ah, that was it then. Danarius just had no idea what else to call him. Flushing, Leto ducked his head a little, embarrassed he hadn't just come out and introduced himself when Danarius asked the first time. 

"My name is Leto, master," he said, and bowed like he had when he first saw the man. "I just turned eight before your family bought me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eight? My but there where selling them young. When Danarius had been eight he’d only just started at the circle. He remembered being terrified, lost in a sea of strangers unsure of what to do and where to go. 

As he watch the boy Danarius noted that he was indeed, more like a fox then a rabbit, and yet fox didn’t quite fit him either.

“Very well Leto. Do you know what your duties are to be?” If Danarius was honest with himself he had very little idea how an attendant would be of use to him. The servants at the collage took care of his everyday needs, and when he was not there he was at home where his family’s slaves attended to anything that need to be seen to. But little Leto was his now and he couldn’t very well tell the boy to just sit in a corner and do nothing. 

As Danarius contemplated his own question he stood and went to the lard oak armoire that stood some distance away from the sitting aria the couch inhabited. Like the rest of the room it was built in heavy dwarven stile with a dragon motif, all dark wood, deep reds and heavy gold metal. Danarius loved it even thought it was a few ages out of stile. He began to dig threw the garments hung in net rows within looking for something that might still fit. He’d had a ungainly growth spirt that winter so his hopes weren’t very high. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I am to... attend you?" Leto looked away for a moment, uncertain. As far as he'd been told it was his duty to do whatever Danarius wished. Of course helping to dress and pick up after him were a given, but aside from that it was whatever Danarius saw fit to do with him. "However you wish to use me." 

He watched as his master crossed to the wardrobe on the other side of the room and began to rifle through the best row of garments hanging there, unable to help the face he made in response to some of the gaudy, fairly hideous outfits. 

"Do you really wear those?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danarius paused holding a frilly purple taffeta monstrosity in one hand and a orange plaid offense to the maker in the other. To be honest he hadn’t been listing to his new slave, but that last comment had definitely made it threw his musings. 

“That is the question isn’t it?” He muttered. “Wear one of these or be the talk of the town, and attend in not but what the maker gave me.” It was an amusing idea, but would end only in tears. 

He chucked the last two back into the wardrobe and selected an emerald green robe with bruise yellow trim and held it and a rose colored tunic that was covered in more gold embroidery then the whole of the sunburst throne. 

“Which of these is less hideous do you think?”   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two selections Danarius made from the wardrobe her both equally unappealing. Leto wrinkled his nose in open distaste in the innocent way only a child could manage, with no fear or thought of repercussions of how his reaction might look to other people, just honest emotion. 

"Mage robes look so uncomfortable." Not to mention ugly. He approached his master to better look over the options Danarius was considering and reached out - almost touching and then deciding better of it. "This one," he decided, pointing to the red and gold tunic. "If you removed some of the gold stitching, it wouldn't be as--" he stopped to remember the word Danarius had used -- "hi-de-ous."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Danarius smirked at the little elf’s hesitant pronunciation of the last word, He really was quite young. Young but determined.

He scrutinized the garment the boy had chosen. It really was the lesser of to evils in this case, if pared with the dove gray lagging he had spotted earlier and the modifications Leto suggested it might even be attractive. 

“Can you sew?” Danarius questioned. If Leto could do it Danarius wouldn’t have to call one of the others and therefor it was less likely to get back to his mother he was “ruining” another outfit. 

At the boy’s egger node Danarius tossed the garment to Leto and went about retrieving the leggings and some other bits and bobs. 

“Then I’ll leave you to that, while I go wash the rode of me.” He instructed “I believe my old maid kept a sewing kit in the chest of draws over there.” with that he shuffled off to the adjoining bathing chamber. 

Danarius had let his mind wonder back to his pet project of mage lights while he sat in his bath, and been struck by a thought that he was sure would have lead to a brake threw in his own and many others understanding of not only the lights themselves but also the fundamental working of magic. Unfortunately by the time he had made it out of the tub and got dry enough to trust that he would not smug or other ways defile one of his precious note books the details had abandoned him leaving only a vague idea behind. 

It was a problem that plagued him in many of his projects. He’d have an idea whilst working on something or other and be unable to write it down fast enough or be distracted by something and loose the train of thought entirely. He’d tried using a spell to recored voice while he spoke the thought aloud but often times he would have to stop long enough to set one up that it defeated the purpose. No, what he needed was a scribe or an assistant, someone to fallow his work and ideally himself as well as to be available at a moments notice to recored the idea. 

Sadly the collage would never approve the expense for a mere circle mage barely out of his apprenticeship. He supposed he could apply for an apprentice himself but then they would have obligations of there own to attend to.

No matter, such frustrations would have to wait for another time, tonight would be an exorcise in futility of another sort. 

when he returned half an hour or so later Leto was sat on floor the tunic neatly folded in his lap newly modified.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Given his first specific task, Leto set to work with enthusiasm, eager to prove himself and please his master. He retrieved the sewing kit from where Danarius indicated and sat down on the floor beside the chaise. A little pair of scissors within the kit aided him in pulling up some of the stitching, and his nimble fingers pulled the threads through the silly material. 

It was tedious work, and Leto's mind wandered through most of it. He wondered about his mother and sister, what they were doing and if they missed him. With a pang he realized how much he missed them. His mother would always hum when she worked, and the absence of her song now made the empty room all the more lonely. 

By the time Danarius returned Leto was glad for the company. He looked up from the floor and then rose to his feet, presenting the neatly folded tunic to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danarius took the offered tunic and then stopped. If he had not know better he would not have know this was the same tunic he had pulled from the wardrobe earlier. Most of the ostentation gold had been removed leaving only a few bits around the collar and cuffs, but what caught his eye was how neatly the work had been done. There was not a bit of stray thread or a suspicious unevenness in the fabric to be seen. 

Danarius looked back at Leto this time taking in the boys long fine fingers, and orderly demeanor. The sewing kit for example was tidier then Danarius had ever seen it. 

“Have you ever held a pin, little wolf?” Asked Danarius. He wasn’t sure what prompted this new nickname, but it seamed to fit the boy somehow. A little wolf cub in a rabbits coat. It would truly be interesting to see if this cub became a true wolf or stopped merely wearing the guise of a rabbit and became one.


	3. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More RP with Lawlipop! We're trying out the five stages of Acceptance for this part. Barely Edited cause I'm lazy and I liked the way it read this way. 
> 
> if I missed something or you know, you think it would read better arranged differently let me know :)
> 
> Comments, Kudos and love are craved, like breathing XP
> 
> -0zey

Danarius stared at the envelope before him on his desk. His father was dead. The man’s death it’s self was not a surprise, He had been sick for sometime. But all that his passing had left to Danarius was going to take sometime to sink in. A seat on the magisterium, an estate in Minrathous, debts unpaid, debts to be collected, a grieving mother and this. A letter outlining Danarius’ own betrothal to a woman he had never meet. It had all been tidally arranged, all the Ts crossed and Is dotted. She was from a good family, strong in magic even though she possessed none herself and a distant cousin of the Archon no less. But the point remained that Danarius did not wish to be married! Good match or other ways. He would much rather continue his work in peace, as for pleasing company he had no trouble finding the physical any night he wished down by the docks, conversation? He was more likely to get a good conversation from the couch cushion the this Clio Rosario. 

“Leto.” Danarius addressed his young scribe waiting by his desk, having brought the blighted letter to his attention in the first place. “How would you get out of a political marriage?” The question was meant half in jest but as the words left his mouth he found himself oddly curious as to the elf’s answer. 

"You're getting married?" Leto's eyes widened a little in surprise. Danarius was generally against the concept of a traditional marriage, preferring to be 'married to his work,' as the saying went, so the elf’s surprise was well earned. "Congratulations. I suggest skipping town, changing your name, and becoming a pirate." Leto continued a hint of a smirk playing about his mouth.

 

Danarius was taken aback for a moment by the utter absurdity of the suggestion, then he began to laugh. Full bodied, starting deep in his belly and rolling forth in deep round chuckles. “Run away and become a pirate? Oh! that would be the life would it not! If only I did not get seasick.” 

five years Leto had been in Danarius service, and in that time he had changed much from the stammering boy in the courtyard. Tall for his race and age, with an air of happiness that fallowed him everywhere. It was hard to maintain any sort of bad mood with Leto nearby.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danarius laughter felt like a reward in itself, and the corner's of Leto's mouth twitched up unashamedly at his own joke. "That would make for a poor pirate." He was lucky his master did not mind when he spoke freely - that he even encouraged it, sometimes. Of course there were occasions where it was more prudent to hold his tongue and he'd stumbled into those many times, but he was learning to read Danarius's moods enough to usually tell when the occasion called for a joke, or honesty, or simply playing along and agreeing with what someone else was saying. 

He wouldn't have imagined this, when the Danarius family purchased him, He'd been terrified then, because every slave knew horror stories of cruel masters. Danarius had never been cruel to him, He disciplined his slaves when it was called for, but never in cruel or unusual ways. 

Sighing the last of his laughter away Danarius picked back up the letter. “It says here that I have been engaged for twelve years now. Nice of my father to tell me, no?”

"I'm sorry, master," he said, meaning it. Danarius seemed so miserable with the prospect that most other men would be content if not happy with. "Do you know who your bride is to be? Perhaps you'll like her."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Had Danarius ever met Clio Rosario? He didn’t think so at first but now that he thought about it, yes. Once about twelve years ago and again much more recently at a Feastday party. On the first occasion her mother had come by to meet with his father and left Danarius to entertain the girl. He’d felt quite proud of himself at the time for being given the honer of looking after a guest all on his own. That is until he had been in her company for a hour and found little more then talk of dresses and bobbles between the child's ears. Then it had been twelve years ago, there was a chance her interests had expanded. 

“I do believe you have meet the woman yourself, Leto. Danarius replied memories returning to him. “You attended me at a Feastday gala hosted by the Rosario house in Minrathous two years ago. She spilled her drink on you and then blamed me.” 

The color drained from Leto's face at the mention of the Rosario name, no doubt recalling the family in question. A truly horrid group, the matriarch, Clio’s mother wielded words like staves, her husband was no better only more open about his distaste of every.thing and everyone. Danarius had never had the misfortune to meet any of the siblings his apparent bride to be but imagined them to be much like there sister, vain, selfish, and empty headed.

“I remember," Leto replied a poorly concealed grimace coloring his words before his careful mask of polite blankness took it’s place. "She was... Delightful."

“Delightful? Clio? Are you sure you and I are remembering the same person?” Danarius snorted. “The Clio I remember was as appealing and pleasant to be around as a brood mother.” It was not to be said however Clio was unappealing to look upon, quite the contrary, Clio was as pretty as a panting and worked hard to stay that way. 

“I suppose that we’ll have to go to Minrathous though” Danarius Danarius said distractedly. Sooner rather then later most likely. They’d never make it in time for the funeral, but it would be better to get all the legal and political ordeals out of the way rather then let then fester. If Danarius where to simply ignore or deny the engagement the house of Rosario could and most likely would clam insult or worse clam a breach of contract and take him for all he was worth.“Can’t leave mother to slog threw this mess by herself.” 

Minrathous, city of his birth, home to his ancestor estate, now his, And Gallus. Danarius had had the happy accident of meeting Gallus last summer when he had got lost in the market and Gallus had help him find his way back to the road. For Danarius it was, if not love at first sight then attachment. They had remained in contact after Danarius had returned to Seheron and he was eager to reconnect with his once lover.

“Leto, I need a letter to be sent to the Minrathous estate.” Danarius said with conviction. “We will be leaving to go there tomorrow mourning. I trust you know what needs to be attended to.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leto took a fresh sheet of parchment and began to make a neat list of matters that would need attending before they left for the capital the next day - letters that need to be sent, arrangements that needed making, instructions for the staff traveling with them and those remaining behind. It spoke well of him that Danarius trusted him to do these things. 

"I'll send a message to your mother of our expected arrival date," Leto said. "As we will likely miss the funeral, I will have a suitable arrangement sent from you."

He hesitated a moment, ensuring their privacy before he asked, "shall I.. contact Gallus as well?" Being one of Danarius's closest confidantes, Danarius had shared with him - and only him - the fact that he had a lover. No one, not even his master's family knew. Especially not his family. It would be a great insult to the family name should word get out Danarius had a male soporati lover. Leto himself was not even supposed to know, but he'd had the embarrassing misfortune of walking in on the two during a moment of intimacy. Since then he seemed to be the one to ferry messages between the pair and arrange their illicit meetings. It... was not a task he particularly enjoyed.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes Danarius wondered what lucky stares had been present when Leto was born to make him such an excellent help.  
Danarius smiled and reached up to affectionally ruffle Leto’s already messy black hair. “You do think of everything don’t you, my little wolf.” After tucking a few of the more unruly strands behind Leto’s ear he let his hand fall. “Yes, Please, a note to Gallus as well. Tell him that I wish to meet at the usual place the night after our arrival.”

Leto’s discovery of Danarius affair had in many ways been a relief, Danarius did not speak of his lover often if at all, but just having someone else to hold and protect his secret was not something Danarius would easily discard. 

The trip would take just under a week to complete and Danarius had matters of his own to attend to before they left. “I will leave you to your work. If you need me I will be in my lab.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leto positively lit up at the praise, savoring it like one savored the first rays of spring sunshine after a long winter. 

"That's why I'm here, master," he replied. He smiled and fought not to lean into the touch of his master's hand - it was important to maintain an air of professionalism, even if he wanted to bask in the affection being shown to him. He loved to please his master more than anything, lived for the moments Danarius singled him out for praise. The fact that his master did praise him - and often - was a source of a bit of contention among Leto and the rest of the household slaves. Everyone knew he was the favorite, and a great many of them loathed him for it. 

Leto didn't care. So long as Danarius was pleased with him, then to the Void with the rest of the household.

As Danarius returned to his work and Leto set about the task of writing letters, he wondered what sort of changes were in store for the both of them upon their return to Minrathous.


	4. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two of the secant RP with Lawlipop, once again barley edited. 
> 
> Let us know if you like it, or I made any mistakes :P
> 
> -0zey

“I will not marry that blighted Demon, Mother! I am the head of this house and I see no posable reason we would need an alliance with those Maker damned pigs.” Danarius had been having this same spinning argument from the last five days, ever since he had arrived in Minrathous only one thing seemed to matter to his mother. Upholding there end of the bargain in offering up Danarius like a lamb to slaughter to the house of Rosario. She had no real argument other then it just wasn’t done to brake a contract like this one, their reputation would be ruined! 

“Dominicus Danarius, I am your mother, I do not care what position you hold to the rest of the world.” Danarius hated when she used his given name, It never meant anything good. In fact she was the only one who ever called him that so he imagined if someone else where to use it now he would have the same knee jerk reaction of dread. “You will listen to me, and you will marry Clio” She never raised her voice but her will was felt clearly.

With an effort of will Danarius rained in his anger and resined himself to losing this round. “I will thank on it, I promise no more.” He conceded as gracefully as he could, blood still hot from the argument. 

“It is all I ask” replied his mother before sweeping out of the room in a swirl of black silk.

Dropping back in to his chair Danarius let out a muffled groan. He loved his mother, and he did want to uphold his family name, But it could be trying to attempt to do both sometimes. 

“Tell me you have good news Leto.” He called to the elf who had been waiting patiently behind the door. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leto pressed himself flat against the wall as lady Danarius fluttered out of the room, her anger almost visibly sparking about her. Inside the room his master seemed in an equally bad mood, but hopefully the letter Leto carried with him would ease that. 

He'd spent the whole morning tracking down his master's lover, picking his way through what was little better than a slum and fighting not to curl his lip in distaste all the while as he sought the man out. Leto was a slave but he'd lived in a luxurious manor for practically his entire life, the slave quarters of which were always tidy even if cramped, though he hadn't slept in the slave quarters for several years. 

To put it frankly, Leto didn't know what his master saw in Gallus. He was a fairly attractive man, but nothing spectacular. Certainly not worth the trouble Leto had to go through to track him down - although he'd beamed when Leto finally found him. He'd had a letter already prepared, in a slanting messy scrawl that made Leto want to scoff. 

Without a word, he slid the letter across his master's desk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Picking up the letter Danarius’ heart leapt at the sight of Gallus’s messy scrawl. Gallus did not mince his words so the note was short, to the point, inquiring as to Danarius availability that evening. They had only been able meet up once in the week Danarius had been in the city. But what a meeting! What Gallus lacked in striking features he more then made up for in skill and wit. 

Quickly jotting down a reply conveying he regrets, albeit with a few more words of affection then Gallus’s note, Danarius was about hand it to Leto when he noticed the way in which Leto was eyeing the slip of paper. As if it held a large fat slug.

Danarius raised an eyebrow at Leto’s expression. He knew Leto did not enjoy these trips to the capital but had not thought his distaste ran so deep. 

“Come now Leto, it’s not that bad out there is it?”

"The lower city has a distinct... odor," Leto explained. Leto's nose wrinkled as he said this. "It is not the most pleasant walk."

Danarius gave a soft chuckle. “Oder, indeed. I would move him up here if I could. Oh! But that would certainly put a stop to this farce of a wedding! would it not!” He exploded, half amused at the thought half annoyed at the situation. “Do you know mother has already ordered the banquet?” Setting the note aside He went about destroying the first. A small puff of flame did the trick nicely. “Do you think sending a bird would be to conspicuous?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damn it, Leto berated himself. He should have tried harder to mask his distaste. Even close as they were Leto should not be so open about his emotions. A slave could have his opinions but still needed to comply with his master's wishes no matter how much he may not agree with them. Leto bit the inside of his cheek, face coloring in frustration directed mainly at himself. Show too much displeasure over a task and Danarius was ready to replace him with a bird. Out of the question. 

"There's a chance it could be intercepted, or not make it to the recipient at all," he said honestly. No, he did not think either were likely to happen, but still. He had too much pride then to let Danarius simply pass his tasks on to a damned bird. "I will deliver the message."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fare point. A bird is much easer to bribe then you my wolf.” Leto was truly like a wolf when he had put his mind to something, stubborn and would not let go easily. “But come, have a drink before I send you back out in to this oder you so disdain.” 

Standing Danarius went to the small wet bar in the corner, and poured a generous double of brandy in to one glass for himself and then a smaller gin cut with tonic water for Leto. “I must thank you Leto. If it where not for you I would surely have lost myself to this mess days ago.”

With Leto’s steady presents and Gallus’s letters -if not the man himself, there was much Danarius thought he could handle, be it raging political warfare or advancements in the world of scholarly pursuit. If only there was a way to keep all of that and still please his mother, and retain their reputation. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leto smiled, glad he'd spoken up to deliver the letter himself even if he was loathe to return to the dredges of the lower city. When Danarius offered him a drink he bowed his head humbly and accepted it, practically beaming under this display of favoritism that he knew Danarius would not offer just any of his slaves. 

"You do not need to thank me. My life is to serve you." He said it without a hint of bitterness or malice, and followed the words by taking a small sip of the gin and tonic. He was unused to alcohol and it burned down his throat, followed by the tingling fizz of the tonic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danarius paused at Leto’s words. ‘My life is to serve you’ from any other slave Danarius had spoken to those same words would have held some small bit of insincerity, but when Leto said them not only did they ring true, but held the kind of devotion that had started the first exalted march. It was a bit disarming, and to his horror Danarius felt himself flush slightly. 

he cleared his throat to dispel the sudden lump there. “I have a meeting with the head of the Rosario house this evening and will need you there to take notes. I don’t trust that woman to leave her own unchanged should we need copies latter in the negotiations.” If there was one thing Clio had not inherited from her mother it was Magister Rosario’s scheming mind, something to be grateful for if this ordeal was to go the way everyone else wished.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a moment where Leto wondered if he shouldn't have said that. Danarius seemed shocked, and then strangely flustered by the declaration. Not that it was much of a declaration. His loyalty to his master was unquestionable, his life very literally Danarius's to do with as he pleased, and Leto was more than happy with that. Other slaves might dream of things like freedom but they were foolish. Leto had good standing with his master, and lived better than any free elf in the imperium he'd ever seen. He did not regretted an instant in his master's company. 

He had to admit, though, even if it confused him, there was something attractive about the flush of Danarius's cheeks. Leto took a sip of his drink and to try and dismiss the thought. Inappropriate to think of his master that way.


	5. Bargaining & Depression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very little editing went on here. Let me know if I missed some thing :)
> 
> -0zey

Danarius sat with his back to the wall, lags sprawled before him on the ground, a half empty bottle of brandy in hand. That morning his out look on life had been so much brighter. He had woke to the smell of Gallus still on his cloths from the night before, and Leto waiting with tea and toast. He had thought that the day could only get better with only one meeting with the Rosario matriarch, and the rest of the day to do as he pleased. 

He had been wrong. The meeting had gone well by anyone but Danarius’ standers, wedding secured threw thinly veiled threats and sugar coated promises. His fait sealed Danarius had sought out Gallus in hope of comfort. Only when in a fit of desperation Danarius had laid his feeling bear, asking Gallus to come work at his estate on Seheron, to stay with him, Gallus had scoffed, and said that if Danarius truly loved him then he would call off the wedding, declare to his mother and Tevinter that he was already engaged, or if that proved to much for Danarius, they should runaway, fare from politics and unwanted wives.

Runaway or marry a man. Running was just as impossible now as it had been when Leto offered it back on Seheron, and marring Gallus more so, it may have been expectable among the Soporati, but among the Altus it was practically as good as declaring yourself the maker; likely to get you killed after they stopped laughing. But instead of pointing out that he could not do either, Danarius had asked for time. Time he did not truly have or need. 

The clatter of the bottle hitting the floor startled Danarius back to the present. He should get off the floor, get into the bed only a few feet away, or at lest call for Leto to assist him in the endeavor. Was Leto even still awake at this hour? It was quite late and he had left no word of his departure. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Leto'd had a feeling, when Danarius returned from the most recent liaison with Gallus, pale with red-rimmed eyes, that the night might be a long one. In all his years of service, he could not recall ever seeing his master so upset. The death of Danarius’ father hadn't so much as rattled him, the news of his arranged marriage frustrated but had not devastated him so. Anger surged through Leto's veins at the thought of a poor soporati man having the power to hurt his master so, and obviously using that power. 

He wanted to hunt the man down, pummel him, even if he wasn't used to fighting and would more than likely end up the more physically wounded party. But a protective instinct flared in him nonetheless. 

Danarius would be displeased if he acted on that urge; it was the only thing that kept him from going after Gallus. Whatever the man had done to hurt him, Danarius obviously still loved him. Which left Leto with little other option than stay awake and discreetly check in on his master throughout the night. 

The only time he made his presence known was when he slipped into the room, a falling of a glass liquor bottle on the ground calling him there as surely as any bell. He'd taken the time to brew a strong black coffee and retrieve a potion from the family stores that would help his master sleep and heal the inevitable hangover. 

He didn't say anything to Danarius. Merely walked over and set the tray he carried beside the man, before moving over and turning down the large bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The soft sound of bare feet on the wool rug pulled Danarius from his torpor enough for him look up and see Leto efficiently and quietly making his bed ready for him. He must have been there a few moments for when Danarius looked around for the bottle he bleary remembered dropping at some point, he found a tray off coffee just out of any risk of being knocked over had Danarius not noticed it. 

Always vigilant Leto, he must know what had transpired to some degree. The wedding, set in stone now loomed in Danarius’ mind. A lifetime with witless Clio bound by duty and honer to produce an heir and up hold his family name, or a life in poverty with Gallus.  
If he was to run his mother would be ruined, disgraced and humiliated. If he stayed he faced ether death or Clio. Gallus had made it quite clear that he would not be kept a secret any longer. But Who was he to demand such a sacrifice of Danarius’ part? Did he wish only to advance himself by using Danarius’ position? A ridiculously naive idea if that was his intention. If only Gallus was just a bit more like Leto, unquestioning loyal, always there when you needed him, but never underfoot. 

A mirthless chuckle wheezed past his lips at the thought. “I bet, if I did runaway and become a pirate, you would fallow me.” His words where a bit slurred by the drink and rang out a tad louder then he would have wished. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leto pulled the covers down and fluffed the pillows like a common house slave would. They were simple tasks he'd had when Danarius’ father had first purchased him as an gift for Danarius, before Leto’d been trained as a scribe. He didn't mind the tasks so much, as right now especially Danarius needed his care. 

Returning to Danarius's side, he offered the man his arm. "I would follow you anywhere, if you wanted me, master," he answers honestly. He'd never presume Danarius would want him to follow, but on the chance Danarius desired his presence there wasn't a doubt in Leto's mind he'd follow his master to the ends of the earth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danarius felt a flood of affection for the elf at his words. “You would at that.” He mumbled as he took the Leto’s proffered arm. “Not like Gallus, making thin excuse to leave me.” And that’s what there where, excuse, nothing more and at worst a manipulative ploy to use Danarius for his own ends. If Gallus did love Danarius as he claimed then he would come to Seheron, simple as that. “Do you know he asked me to marry him?!” Danarius burst out, pulling himself to his feet all at once. “As if such an act would not get us killed, or worse!”

Danarius’ sudden burst of energy left him as quickly as it had come and he slumped into his companion, resting his head on Leto’s shoulder he grunted his displeasure as the room spun wildly. “I am truly blessed to have you Leto.” The words where muffled in Leto’s tunic and slurred badly so it was unlikely the elf would understand them, but they where out there now and Danarius could not take them back, nor did he wish to. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leto offered a small smile, accepting Danarius's weight against his side, curling an arm around his middle as he slowly shuffled them toward the large bed. He didn't comment on Gallus's proposal of marriage other than to snort to himself. What a naive idiot. Did he really think either of them would survive if they truly married? Such a thing might fly among the Laeten classes but among the Altus? Never. 

Danarius leaned heavily against him, face against Leto's chest, his warm breath fluttering at the bit of skin where the tunic laced up by Leto's clavicles. Warmth blossomed in his chest at the man's words, slurred though they were. He helped his master sit on the bed, resisting the urge to hug him but wishing to offer comfort all the same. Instead, he took Danarius's hand. "I will always be here for you," he promised.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danarius hummed his thanks small smile tugging his lips for a moment as he absently brushed at a bit of Leto’s hair. “Get some sleep tonight, my wolf. I will be able to care for myself from here.” He sleepily instructed before turning and falling face first into bed. 

The next morning he gave Leto a letter to take to Gallus explaining that he would be going threw with the wedding as planed and that if he chose to a place on Seheron would be waiting for him. 

Leto returned without a reply looking stormy. Danarius was disappointed but not truly surprised.


	6. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barely edited!

The wedding was to be a grand affair, a spectacle as befitting any celebration among the upper class. Hundreds of invitations had been sent out to the Imperium's best and brightest, and anyone worth knowing was bound to turn up. The Black Divine himself would preside over the ceremony, and rumor has it that even the Archon would attend the grand celebration following the more intimate marriage ceremony. 

Leto was permitted to attend, although only by Danarius's insistence. He helped his master dress and prepare for the day to come, not his typical duties but not anything he begrudged as it meant he could stay by Danarius's side. In the Chantry cathedral he stood against one of the walls, out of sight. The pews were crammed with lords and ladies dressed in their finest. Leto himself, although instructed to remain invisible for the most part, had been given special formal garments to wear for the occasion. 

Danarius stood at the altar with the Divine, and a crescendo of music announced the bride's arrival. She floated down the aisle in an almost preposterously large gown of white satin, the bodice of which was crusted with pearls and crystals, making her practically glow in the candlelight. Leto fought not to roll his eyes at the show of tearing up she put on as she reached the altar and lifted her veil.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Danarius had the strong urge to be violently and spectacularly ill. It had been only five months since he had received word of his impending nuptials and in that time he had had barely a moment to himself. Not that he’d had much of a say in the planing of this monstrosity, but still there had been invitations to sign, fittings to attend, and countless little per-event parties to be seen at. And now standing at the alter watching the one woman he hated most in this world at the moment faking tears of joy at what culminated to be one of the worst moments of his life, felt like it might just brake him. Then he caught sight of Leto tucked unobtrusively off to one side dressed in his own wedding garb, and remembered why he had to remain strong. Honor, reputation, and his lively hood, where on the line if he failed. Why it was Leto’s presences that elicited the response Danarius could not say. 

Danarius spent the entirety of the ceremony relying on the many, many rehearsals to get him threw. vows, -meaningless. Hand fasting, -uncomfortable. Wine, -should be stronger, and finally the kiss, -unsavory to say the least. A grand total of two hours standing in one place feeling his soul slowly die. 

When they eventually made it to the waiting carriage Danarius was sure to signal Leto to join him, if only so he did not need to be alone with Clio a moment more the necessary, something he needn’t have worried about apparently as she made a similar gesture to her own attendance. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a painful affair for his master; anyone who knew the man personally would be able to tell his motions were forced, his words and promises of love and fidelity hollow. Leto’s heart went out to the man, even if he had not been a fan of the person who truly held Danarius's heart. He would have much rather seen a real smile on his master's face on his wedding day. 

The two hours passed much too slowly, and when it was done Leto disappeared into the large crowd, keeping well-trained eyes on his master. When Danarius caught sight of him and beckoned him forward, Leto hesitated. Would it be alright to join the pair in their carriage? 

Only seeing Clio do the same made him sigh in relief and step into the carriage. He took a seat stiffly on the bench opposite of the bride. 

"Watch your feet, slave," Clio snapped when his bare feet narrowly missed the train of her opulent dress. "This gown is worth more than your pathetic life."

Leto colored in equal parts anger and embarrassment. "I apologize, my lady."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wedding party bustled about getting settled in the carriage, Clio already fusing at her attendance, proclaiming her hair had gone flat, and her makeup had smudged, only pausing long enough to snap at Leto for stepping to close to he gown, before ripping right back into her own slaves. None of which had happened or been close to happening in the slightest. 

“My dear wife.” Danarius began softly, but still the whole carriage went quite. “I am prepared to allow you a grate many things. The estate in Minrathous is your’s to do with as you please, for example, your genres weekly allowance, another. However there are a few things that are mine, and mine alone.” Here his voice took a dangerous edge. “Leto is one of those things. And as such you are not to order or berate him. If he does something that displeases you, you will speak to me. If you do not obey my wishes on this matter I will see to it that your other frivolities will become much more difficult to enjoy.”

He stared Clio in the eye as he said this and did not look away until she had nodded, albeit petulantly. Satisfied with her submission Danarius continued. “I will only be in the capital for the time it takes to get you with a heir. The sooner that is done the sooner you may return to your life, and I to mine.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He certainly had not expected Danarius to rush to his defense, and was therefore completely caught off guard by his master's dangerously possessive words. A rush of heat swept pleasantly through Leto's body, coloring his cheeks a soft pink, and he ducked his head to hide it. He knew Danarius would protect him but hadn't thought the man would berate his wife so openly about how to treat his slave, of all things. 

If it would not have been completely inappropriate he might have reached over and embraced the man. As it was, he shifted a little in his seat, a tiny smile pulling at his lips that did not fade even at the thought of Danarius coupling with Clio in order to sire an heir. It did not matter if his master was to be intimate with the woman. At the end of the day, he cared for Leto over her, would come to Leto's defense before hers. It was all he could ask for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Settling back in the bench Danarius closed his eyes and attempted to imagine that the letter that had started all of this had never arrived. He was back in his study at home, buried in his work. No wedding, no Clio, no bothersome politics, and most of all the thing Danarius long for, no betrayal. Gallus had not sent word of any sort since Danarius had given his answer, It was almost as if the man had disappeared into the fade dream he had walked out of last summer at the market. The whispers of affection late at night, soft touch, and the earthy seance of him, replaced by empty words delivered from unfeeling lips and coiling sweet flowers.

Those same lips broke into Danarius’ daydream shattering the small sense of serenity he had managed to attain. 

“I said Not the pink one! you oaf!” Clio was shrieking fit to pierce the vail. Apparently they now needed to make a d-tourer back to the manor so that she might change shoes, and possibly dress. She could have been demanding they all go change to mach for all that Danarius could catch between her hysteric screeching. If it meant a longer reprieve before returning to the crowds of sycophants waiting to drink and eat there way threw a small fortune, then she could have demanded that he dress as a pumpkin and he would have done it. 

Danarius was quick to make his escape however before she could make any such demand. Trusting Leto to fallow he made his way to his privet rooms and out on to the balcony that over looked to garden. 

“Did you think you would ever see this before my father’s death, my wolf?” Danarius sighed dejectedly. “Me a married man I mean.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leto followed dutifully, keeping a respectful distance by the door as Danarius made his way onto the balcony. He wished there were words of comfort that he could offer the man. If Clio were a lovely woman he could at least offer that as consolation for the unwanted marriage. But she wasn't. Sure, she was attractive in a traditional way, all soft features and inviting womanly curves, but her nasty personality soured everything even remotely pretty about her.

"I always thought maybe one day," Leto confessed, because getting married and starting a family just seemed the natural way, and noble Tevinter families liked to arrange their politically beneficial marriages. "But not like this."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danarius lent on the rail watching the birds dip and swoop threw the bright flowers bellow, did they know the freedom they possessed? As fare as Danarius knew a bird was free to chose with whom they built there nest. For a split secant Danarius considered the possibility of shape changing, a spell to turn him into a bird, to flyaway and never come back, before dismissing the foolish idea. If he could have lived with such a chose he would have runaway with Gallus. 

“I believe you are fortunate.” Danarius commented morosely. “If you where to chose a man to love, you would have no more trouble obtaining there continued company then if they where a woman. Less even! as such a union would not result in unexpected little ones.” Sighing Danarius turned his head to obverse Leto.   
The late afternoon sun shone on the elf, catching the tips of his short dark hair and giving it the appearance of a slight glow, his large eyes where changed as well by the light, darker, deeper, like a summer lake full of warmth and the promise of laughter if you knew just how to find it.  
It was a stunning picture, and to Danarius held more comfort and affection then he had seen at any moment during his wedding. 

“At lest I will aways have you my Fenris.”


	7. An Idea is Planted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first part written, so it's a little choppy. Let me know if I missed anything :)
> 
>  
> 
> -ozey
> 
> Note: this takes place about 7or 8 years after the last bit.

Danarius made his way up the stairs to the little attic room Leto now inhabited caring a new sheaf of parchment, fresh inc and a bowl of soup. It was true that if anyone saw him he would have a grate deal to explain away, not the least of which would be why he kept a crippled slave, let alone brought him food. It had been a very long month. Danarius return to Seheron had been delayed by quite some time, an unpleasant situation under normal circumstances, but with the failed attempt on his life there had been a grate deal of clean up to attend to in both political and literal seances, then when that mess was mostly set aside there was Leto. The elf had lived up to his nick name that night in throwing himself between Danarius and his attacker taking the blade himself instead. Finding a healer who could save his life had been difficult, one who could save the pore elf’s lags, impossible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a creak in the top step. A bit of the wood weakened over time that groaned now under any additional weight. It was something Leto would never have paid much attention to before, but now, seeing as he was bedridden and useless, he couldn't help take notice. It was his only alert of someone approaching, and by the pattern of the steps he could tell without even having to open his eyes that it was Danarius, come to bring him food most likely. Leto hadn't much of an appetite since the incident. He knew he was dying - that he'd sealed his fate the moment he jumped in front of the assassin's blade. He'd only assumed death would be more immediate. A knife to the back wasn't an injury most recovered from. 

Danarius, stubborn man that he was, refused to believe it might still claim him, but Leto wasn't so optimistic. The healers had done what they could, stopped the poison before it could stop Leto's heart, but the fact remained he was paralyzed from the legs down. 

As Danarius entered the room, Leto attempted to pull himself up. His legs remained useless stumps of dead weight, neither moving with nor against him. He dragged himself so he was sitting and sighed as he spotted the tray of soup in his master's hands. "You shouldn't be caring for me like this. People will talk."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“They’ll hold there tongue if they want to keep them.” Danarius almost spate. Seeing Leto like this felt as if the assassin had carried out there orders to there end every time Danarius made the climb, but it was better then the alternative. He shuddered a bit a the thought, Alone in the pit of vipers that called itself the magisterium. The Events leading to Leto’s condition where prof of Danarius’ need for allies, powerful or merely someone to watch his back, if nothing else. 

Taking a deep breath Danarius set down the tray and proffered the parchment and inc.  
“Now if you are quite done telling me what I should and shouldn’t do with my own time I am in need of your skills.” Leto alway spoke out more then the other slaves in Danarius’ household and perhapses the only one allowed to do so. It was what made him invaluable to Danarius. “I’m working on a new angel for the enchanted Lyium armor.” 

Leto appeared to relax some at that settling in to his accustom roll despite the new circumstances.

"What new angle might that be?" He took the proffered ink and parchment and arranged them on the little writing table that had been brought for him earlier. 

The table was a mobile one he could easily pull over his lap to write while sitting down. A quill came next, the tip of which he took a moment to sharpen before meeting Danarius's eyes expectantly. Good, better that Leto work then wallow. 

Danarius took a seat in the only chair, a battered leather monstrosity that had once sat in his office, and pulled his robes tighter around himself. A draft was coming down from the chimney of the small potbellied stove in the corner. Hopefully only he felt it. 

“I think the key maybe a lighter material with which to bind the Lyium. I believe that the inept smith I hired for the last mockup set the inlay wrong. The points of conduction where inaccurate. The test was less then satisfactory to say the least. But better then the last two. The closer the Lyium is to being in contact with the flesh of the subject the better the results.” As he spoke Danarius inconspicuously took stoke of Leto’s condition. There was a definite pallor to his once healthy skin and dark circles under his pail green eyes as if sleep had been alluding Leto. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danarius began to dictate, and it was almost as if nothing had changed. If Leto closed his eyes for a moment he could pretend he was in Danarius's study, in the secondary writing desk allotted to him when his master needed him to take notes, and that no one had recently made an attempt on his master's life - an attempt Leto had foiled at a high cost. 

But he could not pretend for very long, as it soon became apparent that things were not as they had once been. Not only due to the loss of feelings in his legs, but in the clumsy way his hand chose to obey him. Leto glared at the parchment, at the sloppy, blocking letters so unlike his usual neat print. Leto was a scribe, trained for the very purpose of taking Danarius's notes and writing them legibly and sophisticatedly when appropriate. Research notes could oftentimes forego the sophistication, but this... This was more akin to a child's penmanship, jagged and uncertain. 

Brows furrowed in concentration, Leto attempted to keep up with Danarius's thoughts. Already, though, he'd fallen behind, and lost what his master had said next. Panic stirred in his chest and he swallowed several times, adjusting his grip on the quill before raising his gaze to meet Danarius's. His master was typically lenient with him compared to the other slaves. There were times, and maybe it was foolish to think so, when Leto thought perhaps they were even friends. But he wondered how far that leniency would hold if Leto proved incompetent. 

"I'm sorry, master," he said after a moment, ashamed of himself. "I-- I've lost track... Can you repeat the last part?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Danarius frowned. Leto, in the thirteen years since he had come into Danarius’ service at age eight had rarely interrupted him or missed a single word, always studious and quick about his work. Glancing back at the parchment beneath Leto’s trembling hands Danarius grew more concerned. 

The loose blocky letters the like of which he had not seen since he had made the mistake of looking in on his son’s lessons wobbled drunkenly across the page, even as he watched a drop of ink feel from the pin, blotting the already messy scribbles, Leto didn’t seem to notice though, to busy peering at Danarius, waiting no doubt for instructions or a rebuttal. There was fear in Leto’s eyes now and Danarius hated it. Fear in other people was at some times very useful, better to say nothing and let them come up with the threat them selfs, then to open ones mouth and have it fall flat, and all that. But it had been a long time since Leto had looked on him with fear, assured in his place by Danarius’ side. In fact to see fear there now just felt wrong, as if the rug had been pulled out from under his feet and balance had abandoned him. Leto had not shown or felt fear as fare as Danarius knew, as a direct result to his actions for many years before the blighted assignation attempt, and seeing him look so small and scared now snapped something inside Danarius. 

If Clio, maker curse the day he wed her, had not been such an insufferable bitty to that magister there would have been no insult, imagined or other ways for him to avenge! Or if only the thrice damned idiot had waited a little longer to send them then Danarius would have had a proper bodyguard, and Leto, his passionate little wolf always confident in his actions, would not have done the fool thing and got in the way. For Makers sake Danarius had others for that kind of thing! 

There was a small noise from the bed and Danarius stopped, only then realizing he had stood and was now pacing. This was no good. Danarius was just getting angry and in doing so probably scaring Leto even more. 

Turning back to Leto Danarius gently removed the quill from his hands setting it and the parchment aside. 

“Forgive me my Fenris. It has been a long day. I did not think to make sure you ate before we began.” Work could wait, and as much as Danarius might wish it where not true, Leto could not. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leto had never felt so insecure, not since he'd been a child and first acquired by the Danarius family, uncertain what was to become of him next. Since he'd been taken in, educated as much as a slave could be and given the comfortable position as Danarius's scribe, he'd never feared for his place in the household. Now, however.... His conditioned changed everything. Not being able to walk was one thing, but if he could no longer perform his primary function as a scribe, what need would his master have of him?

Danarius had taken to pacing, setting Leto's nerves only further on edge, where they balanced until his master came and took the quill from his shaking hand. Leto exhaled slowly, mildly comforted by the term of affection that slipped from his master's lips. 

"You don't need to apologize," Leto said quickly, hating that Danarius even felt the need to. This wasn't his fault, none of it. Leto should be strong enough, it shouldn't matter if he'd eaten or not, he should be able to do his duty. As it was, he wasn't sure if eating would make a difference. The tremors in his hands didn't seem a result of hunger or fatigue. Still he reached for the tray of soup Danarius had brought up for him, willing his hands to be steady as he took up the spoon and began to slowly eat.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Telling me what I should and shouldn’t do again already?” Danarius teased. He was afraid he wasn’t very good a putting people at ease, after all he rarely wanted to. But now it seem of the grates import. A clear head and steady hand always helped no matter the problem Danarius supposed. So taking his seat once more he took a deep breath and observed his friend eating. They where Friends, or at lest the closest Danarius would ever have to a friendship, lopsided and somewhat strand at times as it was. Leto remained the only person Danarius trusted, be it with his research, his life or even should he dare to try, his innermost thoughts. There was no two ways about it Leto had to get better.  
As if to punctuate the thought Leto missed his mouth with his spoon and spilled it’s contains down the front of his tunic. 

“Oh for makers sake Leto!” Danarius exclaimed. “If it’s taste that bad say something, don’t just throw it about.” Perhaps a pore chose of joke but if it got even a hint of his normal Leto to shine threw it would be worth the embarrassment. “thought I’m not sure anything can be

Leto started, fear flashing across his feature for the briefest of moments before being replaced by a small smile, eyes meeting Danarius’ catching the pore joke.

"It's not the best soup I've ever eaten," he said lightly, playing along. "If I didn’t know better I'd say you made it." The next spoonful he managed to get into his mouth without incident, and the one after that as well, though it took far longer than should be necessary. 

“Spoil my hands doing something a base as cook? Leto you must be feeling ill.” Danarius attempted to continue the game.

Leto managed s soft laugh, meeting Danarius's eyes for a moment. "Yes, Maker forbid the magister sullied his hands doing something so mundane."

As Leto set the bowl aside however Danarius felt his spirit fall once more. Blessed Maker! He’d come up here to get some work done and speak to his friend! Not savor the sweet sorrow that his life had become.  
Gathering the writing supplies Danarius made himself comfortable once more in his chair, this time set up to write himself. All and All it wasn’t half bad up here he thought as he tried to get the small desk to sit properly. Like the chair rest of the furniture was large and soft, things that Clio had deemed ‘no longer fashionable’ and banished to the attic. It was quite possibly Danarius’ favorite room on that merit alone.

“Now about this armor. Do you think I should skip straight to lining a tunic with the Lyium or try leather first?”

Leto watched as Danarius situated himself in an armchair near the bed, eyes sorrowful. His glanced at the parchment in Danarius’ hands before looking away again ears flushed.  
"I think... As close to the skin as you can make it." 

Danarius saw Leto’s ears droop and guessed correctly at the cause of the elf’s destress . He wished he could convey to Leto how he did not so much need Leto’s skill with a quill as he wanted his counsel. 

“Yes, it’s a pity you can’t make Lyium into jewelry and have it still hold the powers needed for my peruse.” He muttered only half his mind on the problem. The other half was on a design for a ruin of mobility. Something never employed before for scores of reasons, the least of which was that it had to be bound to the owner, and this one would have to connect to the spine too... Risky to say the lest. “I wonder if tattooing it to the skin would work.” Danarius mumbled to himself. On which subject however was anyones guess.

"Would that even be possible though?" Leto mused. “Lyrium tattoos?”

“Hmm?” Danarius startled from his thoughts by Leto’s voice. Was what possible? In theory anything was posable. A tattoo? True it would take a small fortune in lyrium to cover the necessary surface area but it might just be worth it! 

“Oh My Cleaver Fenris! I could kiss you! A Tattoo. Not just touching the skin, but in it.” His joy at a solution to the armor almost over whelmed his good seance for a moment, but the reality burst back in and reminded him he had thought of this before. Near the beginning of the tests. The amount of lyrium needed to make the wearer able to slip between the lares of the fade would slowly poison the subject driving them made, and was therefor useless. 

falling back into his chair Danarius sighed. “No... It would never work. you’d need some way of stoping the lyrium from killing the host.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leto's eyes flew open wide in surprise at the unexpected reaction. He hadn't thought he'd said anything inspiring, but the raw excitement on Danarius's face proved otherwise. Something about his words opened a floodgate of possibilities and Leto could practically see the gears turning in his master's brilliant mind. Seeing Danarius so overjoyed filled Leto in turn with joy, and he wished that he could jump to his feet and share in his master's excitement - and maybe, if he were bold enough, lean up and steal that kiss Danarius offered in jest. 

Another impossibility, of course. 

Just as Danarius's excitement reached its peak, it crashed to a stop and plummeted with the onset of reality. Leto pursed his lips, brows furrowing as he thought deeply about a way to make the idea possible. As he was not a Mage himself, Leto could not fully understand much about magic; but he'd seen his master do wondrous things with his powers. "If anyone can figure out a way to do the impossible, it's you." 

Danarius was a Mage of considerable talent, and fiercely intelligent on top of that. "What about a rune, or some kind of ward.. Something to protect the bearer from lyrium poisoning?" 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once again depress by his thoughts it took a moment to fully register Leto’s words. 

Always encouragement form Leto, never a word to discourage or of unnecessary criticism. Util recently Danarius had serious doubts that Leto ever thought anything was impossible. 

Leto’s idea as well where often outlandish but some how always started the right train of thought. Imagine making a ruin to contain lyrium, insane! As many ruins where made with lyrium. And a ward! No ward Danarius could think of had the delicate hold required to still be able to access the lyrium to it’s full potential. But maybe... instead of thinking of the lyrium as a separate material to be worked around... If you made it into the ruin that not only powered the spell but also contained it. If you did it right it might even create it’s own ward around the subject. A truly bizarre idea, but if it worked it would change everything! 

Danarius needed his lab. He stood to leave his head still full of designs and whirling with ideas. Then stopped, Leto. If Danarius left for his lab Leto could not come, and Danarius would loss any further input he might have. But then again he did have a good start.

Blight it all! Turning back to the bed Danarius addressed the elf. “I will send someone latter to with your dinner. I must return to my lab. As always my Fenris, you have done an impeccable job.” With that he turned and left, leaving the writing material behind unmarked save Leto’s messy scribbles. 

It would be three days before Danarius returned to the attic. Leto was well cared for in that time, the days marked by a line of foul potions that while returned Leto’s strength did little to heal his lags or lift his spirits.


	8. A Solution is Sought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And things get messed in the head. No one here is having very healthy brain activity. 
> 
> -ozey
> 
> P.s. if I missed any thing let me know. Also Kudos are loved!
> 
> Edit: This bit has been added to/changed in places to fit better with a proceeding chapter

It was the evening of the forth day when Danarius made the climb once more, this time accompanied by two large elves who usually worked in the stables. 

The door had not even begun to close behind them when Danarius started ordering the stable slaves about briskly, instructing that the writing desk and small chest that contained Leto’s few belongings be taken away.

Leto tried not to look as if he had been waiting for his master to visit, but he perked up at his presence nonetheless. The two elves flanking his master were unexpected, and watching them remove his belongings from the room was disconcerting. Was this because he hadn't been able to write the other day? Swallowing, he followed one of the slaves with his eyes as they carried the desk out of the room before looking back at Danarius worriedly.

Only then did his masters acknowledge him. 

“I have need of you in the labs. There are points of the new plan that require new eyes to untangle and Hadriana is as always useless to me.” There was frustration in his voice and his posture spoke of anger and annoyance.

Leto was relieved at the explanation though. He'd been afraid Danarius might actually be replacing him or something, as he was now... Defective. As one of the stable hands returned, Leto did not resist being picked up - although it did make him feel even more useless. Having to be carried around like a newborn; pathetic. 

all remained silent on the long walk to the sub-level on which Danarius labs where situated.

Danarius saw Leto settled before returning to the blueprints speared across his work space apparently happy to ignore the elf once more.

Leto cleared his throat and inquired as to Danarius’ progress on his research for lack of anything else to speak about. From his place on the sofa in the corner he could see most of the lab, it was one of the ones dedicated to theoretical research and every bit of space was covered in notes on the armor turned tattoos.

“hmm? Oh yes. To a certain point at the very lest. I’ve come to a block as to what to anchor the blighted mess to." Danarius replied not looking up from his work. "Hadriana’s most helpful suggestion so fare was to attach it to an emotion. As if you could bind an emotion like some wayward spirit!” a Snort of contempt fallowed the words.

Leto was afraid he hadn't much to contribute in way os a solutions to this dilemma. Danarius spoke to him of magic and his experiments often, and true he took the notes as required of him, but that didn't mean he really understood any of the logistics. 

"Does there need to be an anchor?" He wondered.

Of course there needed to a anchor Leto admonished himself as soon as the words left his mouth, otherwise Danarius wouldn't be so fixated by the idea and the problem of finding one. Leto bit his bottom lip thoughtfully, adjusting the blankets around his useless legs and sighing when no answers came to his mind. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danarius puzzled it over for a bit. Did it need an anchor? Yes other ways the power that flouted threw the lyrium contained by the pattern - much like a stream directed by a pattern of dams- would simply flow into the host. 

Danarius tore his eyes from the schematic to face Leto so that he might explain this and stopped. He hadn’t really taken heed of how Leto had settled on the couch, eager to get back to his work, but now his attention was drawn to Leto he couldn’t stop the small snort of mirth that escaped him. 

When the oaf of a slave had sat Leto on the couch he hadn’t been very gentile it seams for Leto’s dark hair stood out in all directions like he had ran afoul of a lighting charm, and the blankets that had accompanied him from his bed now resembled some poor bird’s raided nest. The over all look was very appealing, more so then any desire demon had very been to Danarius. All soft lines and welcoming folds that seem to call to him in a half remembered voice. ‘come loose yourself for a while, touch, sleep. Come. Know him as you once knew me. No one need know.’ it whispered full of the warmth of promised pleasure. 

Danarius shuddered first with desire to do just that and then more violently at his own reaction to the sight.

He quickly turning back to his workbench with out saying a word, only to see Leto before him on the page where before the figures showing where faceless, sexless body on which to map the path of his work. 

Danarius’s mind was spinning in grate panicked swirls, no words where apparent other then a constant looping wail of denial. There had been a time in his youth once before, when such thoughts had been planted in his mind by a demon, but there couldn’t posable be any such creatures near him now! His lab was worded, his mind a steel trap letting nothing past it’s iron gates without his knowledge. Yet the feeling remained. Desire. Hot searing need to be close the slight yet strong willing body, held close, safe, and never have to leave. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Feeling eyes on him, he looked back up. Danarius was staring at him intently, gaze roaming from the tousled mess of Leto's hair to the spread of blankets and limbs on the sofa. A bit self-conscious, Leto reached up and flatted down some of the more unruly strands of hair. He was sure at the moment he did not look his finest, but Danarius's gaze had not been judgmental or cruel- rather the opposite, Leto thought. There had been hunger in his eyes, though quickly suppressed as he had abruptly turned away. So quickly Leto thought maybe he'd imagined it. He hoped he hadn't imagined it. 

It was foolish of him. Knowing his place, it was foolish to harbor any sort of attraction to his master. Yet he couldn't deny one existed. Danarius was a handsome human, and, in Leto's honest opinion, he was a good human. There were times he could be cruel, but it was what his position as magister demanded of him. And what person could say honestly they had never been cruel? His master seemed off today though. As if not entirely present in their conversation. Distracted. Should he ask about it? 

He wished he could reach Danarius from the sofa - touch his hand. But he could not, so he laid his hands on the fold of the blanket and said, "Could a soul be an anchor? The soul of the bearer?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leto was speaking. Danarius Desperately grasped for them, pulling himself back to reality.

“A soul?” Danarius repeated more to himself then Leto. “Knot the power into a living soul...”  
The words left Danarius as if of under there own power and with each syllable he regained some composure. Thank the Maker for Leto. For a moment Danarius had feared he would be lost again to the demon, who’s honied words and soft touch had corrupted his thoughts, turned him from his family and nearly destroyed him some years previously, just before his wedding in fact, a time of weakness no doubt the reason it had struck then rather a year previous when he had first meet the demon. It had never truly left him to this day however, it’s voice whispering of strong hands, the earthy scent of male exertion, and quite words shared between kisses that held the soft scratch of stubble. Trying to turn him once more from his duty and ruin his reputation. Only Leto knew of Danarius struggle with this particular demon and even he thought that it had long ago stopped it’s pursuit. A ignorance that Danarius was carful to maintain.

"What's more powerful than a living soul? It's the very essence of life, of energy. It might even give the bearer more control over the lyrium, if it was anchored by the soul. It would fuse them entirely with the lyrium, body and spirit." continued Leto hesitantly.

A ruthful chuckle tickled the back of Danarius’ throat. 

“If only you had been a mage Leto. I would much rather have you as my apprentice then that fool Hadriana.” Turning once more to face the room Danarius starched getting to his feet. “At lest you pay attention when I speak.” 

It was true anchoring the Lyrium in the host’s soul would balance the whole finicky mess. Though the solution presented it's own problems, but then if one played it safe in magic one would never see there ideas realized.  
“I believe you may have solved a problem that has haunted me for almost my entire career. That is of course I can find a suitable subject for the tests.” 

It was strange now that he had the answer to his problem with in his grasp his enthusiasm had faltered, lost to the chaos that was still pressing at the corners of his mind. Then he remembered. Truly there had been more to his actions in having Leto brought down then the desire for intelligent company. 

“I have a gift for you.” Danarius declared.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leto thrilled under the praise, very pleased to have earned it. He wished he had talent in magic as well. To be Danarius's apprentice... They would still not be equals, but closer to it than now, Leto was only a slave after all. Maybe then, as a Mage, he would have actually been someone worthy of Danarius's affection, in more than just a friendly sense. 

Alas, he was not a Mage, so it was useless to imagine what his life might be like if he'd been born so fortunately. His mind drifted instead to possible candidates for Danarius's experiment. He wondered what sort of person would best be suited for it; what characteristics they needed to possess. Before he could ask, Danarius surprised him yet again by announcing his intention to present Leto with a gift.

Leto stared, openly shocked. "A gift?" He repeated. For what occasion?

Leto watched, intrigued, as Danarius went behind the workbench and wheeled out a specially designed chair. “I will admit it is more for my connives then a true gift should be but such is the way of things.” Danarius continued as he maneuvered it toward Leto. It was a brass and wood affair, light weight in construction, dwarven made. The most important feature of the chair though where the two large wheels on ether side allowing it to move smoothly across the floor. “I had the room adjacent to this one made up to serve as a place for you to sleep so that you might continue your work as my scribe without having to call in one of the stab hands to carry you down.” Danarius explained as he shifted the contraption to the side of the sofa. Leto studied it, and could not help the way his heart sunk. It was not the gift he was displeased with - truly, it was thoughtful, and Leto was glad he would not have to rely on others to carry him around everywhere. But... Leto had seen chairs like this. They were for old men, invalids nearing the ends of their lives. Not young men, who should have their whole lives still ahead of them to move freely. 

The paralysis was permanent. Somewhere in the back of his mind he'd clung to the hope that maybe by some miracle he'd regain the feeling in his legs... But seeing the chair cemented the fact. Leto swallowed, fingers trembling a little as he reached out to touch the wheel nearest to him. 

"Thank you," he whispered, hoping he did not appear ungrateful. "I hope I can still be useful to you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danarius watch Leto’s good mood vanish in frustration. Of course Leto would still useful to him. Hadn’t he just said as much? The new arrangement meant little to Danarius, a small inconvenience, certainly better then the prospect of a life without Leto in it. But he supposed to his spirited little wolf it was highly inconvenient to be confined to the sub level of the labs. Leto after all loved the sun and gardens.  
Sighing Danarius slipped two fingers beneath Leto’s chin and tilted the elf’s head so that there eyes meet once more.  
“It is only a temporary measure. After these trials are done I will have you moved to a more comfortable room.”

Danarius snatched his hand back as if burned as Leto's fingers reaching up to brush his own, conveying his thanks once more. Leto's touch had drawn Danarius' attention to what he was doing and he was disgusted at his own lack of control. He turned away again to shuffle his paper agitatedly. What was wrong with him? It was one thing to hear a demon in his own mind, many a mage struggled to with such things, knowing when it was a demon or your own thoughts was the trick. But to act on those impulses, to see the illusion of his own corruption reflected back at him from Leto’s eyes? It was wrong, twisted. The wards most have fail somewhere in the walls. Best to ignore this demon tricks until he could refresh all of them, Think of other things. 

Danarius would need to get a list of the needed supplies and for that he could use Leto’s help. Hopefully the elf had not noticed anything strange in the last few minutes, the only thing Danarius could think of worse then giving in to this demon was to have it’s will forced on his little wolf. 

Clearing his throat Danarius passed Leto his writing desk with out making eye contact, afraid of what he might have projected there. 

“I trust you are well enough to write for me.”


	9. A Bargen is Struck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> as always if I missed something please let me know :)
> 
> comments and kudos are loved :3
> 
> -0zey

Leto couldn't help the way his breath hitched when Danarius leaned in closer, or the way his cheeks warmed as his master slipped two fingers beneath his chin and tilted it upward. Leto swallowed and met Danarius's gaze before reaching up to gently touch his master's wrist. It was a bold move -- too bold for any other slave to attempt, and probably too bold for even Leto. He willed the blush on his face not to spread - but it was too late, as he could feel the tips of his ears burning. 

"Thank you," he said again, more feeling behind the word this time. He was glad Danarius was thinking ahead, not permanently banishing Leto to live down here. And he was grateful Danarius wanted him so close, to take part in these trials. It meant something. It meant Danarius cared more for just Leto's use as a scribe.. Right?

Then suddenly Danarius ripped his hand away as if he'd just been touched by something particularly dirty or diseased. Leto's throat tightened, and he stared at his own hand as if it were to blame. And it was, at least partially to blame. A filthy elven hand, a slave's hand. Of course Danarius did not want to be touched by him. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered so quietly that it was unlikely Danarius herd him. He shouldn't have been so forward. He wouldn't presume to be familiar with his master like that again. "Yes. I've been practicing." He answered the human’s question raising his voice, half hoping that if he acted as if nothing had happened then it would not have.

He tried not to let the way Danarius pointedly avoided eye contact bother him, focusing instead on adjusting the writing desk and his parchment. When he was comfortable he took up the quill and waited for instruction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If Danarius had concentrated on his work a little harder he would have missed the soft apology, and thus not been subject to the tidal waive of mixed emotions that it brought forth. He wished he had been. Shoving it all to the corners of his mind along with the cursed demons whispers, he pulled forth his battered journal and flipped to the needed section.

“The first thing to consider is where to purchase the vast quantity of Lyrium needed. I believe you still have a list of the suitable merchants.” He only paused long enough for Leto to nod before continuing. “Then ten or more slaves will be needed to provide the blood, no need to use just one and wast them. A healer as well, I believe Lovita still owes me a favor. then of course a test subject.” Danarius paused again pondering the problem. “Can’t give that kind of power to just anyone though. They’ll need to have to be loyal and poses a strong will as well... perhapses hold a proving.” Danarius hated provings, to many people all shouting and milling about, but they did have there uses. 

Fenris jotted down furiously as Danarius spoke,. "Provings?" The word slipped out surprised. Leto looked up briefly from his paper. "You hate Provings." Leto was probably the only person who knew of Danarius dislike of provings, one of the very few who knew any of his likes and dislike on anything really. "But if you think that's best, Master, it will be arranged.”  
Taking up his quill again, he asked, "who will compete in the Provings?"

Leto hesitation irked Danarius. “Leto, if I found it to be a inconvenience I would not have brought it up” his words where harsher then he meant them to be and he took a moment to collect himself before continuing in a softer tone. “ I may find Provings distasteful but that dose not mean they do not hold merit. After all where else can you find the strongest worrier in a group of his fellows, or cleverest for that mater. ” affecting a small smirk at his own small joke.

Leto did bring forth a good question though, who would have the dubious honer of fighting in event. “I suppose they will have to be from the grades. Better make sure to get some from the Seheron estate. The fools here barely know which end of the sword to hold.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Leto flinched. "Of course," he said quickly. "I apologize, master." Maker, he was making mistake after mistake this evening. Perhaps it was better to just keep his mouth shut. He smiled thinly only because he was sure Danarius expected him to be amused, and did his best not to step out of line again. 

"So it is to be warriors only?" He asked as he made a note to contact Seheron estate for a crop of their finest warriors to compete. Choosing only warriors - and selecting them in advance- seemed... Limiting. Especially if Danarius was thinking to use the soul as an anchor, the one selected should be entering into the experiments willingly. Their spirit would be stronger if the experiment was something they wanted to go through with. 

"Master, can I ask...." He looked away, thoughtful, then took a deep breath and continued. "Does lyrium have any healing attributes?"

“If you have a question ask it, my Fenris. Do not ask to ask it, to do such is to wast time.”

He did not think the answer would be yes - clearly Leto's luck was not favorable enough for it to be so - and he took Danarius's evasion to mean that, no, lyrium contained no special healing properties. It was not a magical solution to Leto's problem. There was no solution to Leto's problem, and he should resign himself to being stuck like this forever. Relying on a chair to get him from place to place and hope that his master never tired of having an invalid around. 

Leto could lie. Let this question slide by unexplored, just fleeting curiosity... But what was the point? He'd been fixated on the idea of Danarius's experiment ever since Danarius first brought it up. Knowing what Danarius possibly intended for the one he bestowed the honor upon - to make that person a bodyguard for himself - Leto could not imagine anyone but himself filling the role, despite his lack of fighting skill. 

"Your ideal candidate for this experiment... You want someone loyal," he explained, then shook his head. "It must be someone loyal, someone who would give up anything to protect you." Someone like Leto, who had already given up everything when he was not even a guardsman. He was a mere scribe, and he'd acted before any of Danarius's guards to save him from the assassin's blade. "If it were possible, I would want to volunteer."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leto as the subject for the tests? No, it was fare too dangerous. The Lyrium might not even work, and in the event that it did it was unlikely to return Leto’s mobility, leaving Danarius with only half a bodyguard. In addition there was still the chance the runes would not hold over time. 

“Even if I found a way to return the use of your lags to you my Fenris, you have never held a sword in your life much less learned to wheeled one.” He tried to gentle his words. 

Even as Danarius shot down the idea however his mind was working out the logistics of adding a mobility ruin to the existing pattern. Simple really now that the problem of power flow had been addressed, Volcanic aurum or Vail quarts where both said to have healing powers maybe if one was worked into the design, say near the base of the spine... Yes! If Danarius added a protection rune made of volcanic aurum or vail quartz it would not only midget any lyrium leakage but also help the subject heal faster, be it an old or new wound. 

"I could learn," Leto said defensively. "I could train with the rest of your guards." 

If there was one thing to be said about Leto it was that he was determined, and a quick study, Leto had the discipline to learn the ways of a warrior, if he where to regain the use of his lags. With the changes fitting into place in Danarius’ mind there was every little chance of that failing to happen. Leto whole once more, stronger even! No one would question a elf fallowing it’s master everywhere, adding the eliminate of surprise if it where needed. It was a brilliant idea, but why did Leto want it so badly?

Danarius scrutinized his servant suspicion edging at his mind. 

If Leto only wanted the power, a chance to clam things beyond his reach, to leave Danarius’ side...

“What makes you so sure you would be best for this honer, My Wolf?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Under his master's shrewd gaze, Leto felt the urge to shrink in on himself - but he dare not show such weakness. He needed Danarius to see him as strong, to know that what Leto currently lacked in physical ability he more than made up for with an iron will. A bodyguard couldn't wilt under every scrutinizing gaze sent his way - he needed to be sure of himself, of his ability to succeed if granted the opportunity. 

So Leto swallowed down his lingering insecurity and met his master's eyes, his own eyes bright with determination. 

"Because I would do anything for you," he said earnestly. "I think I've already proven I would give up my life for yours. I don't trust anyone else to do the same." 

Danarius smiled his suspicion apparently laid to rest. “Then my dear Fenris you shall have your wish. Prepare the letters to be sent to the appropriate parties. We start preliminary tests tomorrow.”


	10. Before the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly Lawlipop's writing, edited by me to be from Leto's point of view. 
> 
> If I missed anything let me know! :) 
> 
> as always comments, kudos, and love are much craved.
> 
> -0zey
> 
> P.S. I'm tagging this a major death even though no one really dies.

Maker, Leto was nervous. So much had gone into preparing for the ritual, months of trials not the least of which included strengthening himself both mentally and physically. There was nothing to be done for his legs, unfortunately, until after the ritual (and hopefully it would succeed without fault), but he trained his upper body, and learned the basics of how to hold and maneuver a sword while seated in his wheeled chair. 

Danarius had overseen all of it, and seemed pleased with Leto's progression. Now there were no more tasks to complete, no more tests to undergo. Only the ritual itself. Danarius had been honest with him, so Leto knew there would be pain. As a scribe; he was not used to pain, and frankly had to admit the idea frightened him. 

But it would be worth it. Because when it was through, if all went according to plan, he would have his legs back. And he'd be elevated to an even more prestigious position. As Danarius's bodyguard he would be with the man constantly, watching over him and ensuring no harm ever befell him. 

 

The thought eased his anxiety only somewhat, as Lovita, who had indeed owed Danarius a favor- shaved his head. A necessary sacrifice, as the markings would reach up his scalp, but he'd been rather fond of his hair and was somewhat sad as he watched the lifeless tufts of black flutter to the wood floor. Without his hair, the room felt colder - it certainly didn't help he only had a thin loincloth with which to cover himself - and he shivered involuntarily as the doors burst open and his master swept into the room. 

Upon Danarius rather dramatic entireness Lovita looked up from where he was finishing up. “Ah Danarius, Finally! Your slave was getting twitchy. I trust you will have things well in hand I return. I must go attend to another mater.” Lovita rasped in her arrogant way. Truly you would think it was her life's work they where going to culminate and not Danarius’.

"I am not twitching," he grumbled as Lovita exited. "It's freezing down here."

Danarius chuckled, as he gathered his inc and brush. “Leto, you know as well as I, it needs to be freezing, slows the blood.” He half teased. “Now lay back, I need to apply the guide lines.” 

Leto shook his head. "I know," he said, crossing his arms to try and conserve some warmth. Just because he knew it had to be cold didn't make the temperature any more tolerable. He didn't think it was fair that Danarius got to wear full robes while Leto donned only smalls - never mind the practicality that dictated Leto needed to be as bare as possible.

Leto arranged his legs on the table, a hard, cold affair made of white marble, inlayed with silverite runes to ease the ritual. A ritual they had preformed a dozen times over the last months on smaller scales to prepare for tonight. He turned his head, watching Danarius mix the ink. His master's excitement was nearly palpable. "Are you nervous?" He couldn't help but ask, fighting to keep still as Danarius began to paint the intricate pattern onto his body. "I am.. A little. I'm not having second thoughts," he assured his master, "I just... I can't imagine what it will be like, after. What i will be like."

 

“Nervous? I can’t say that I am, no.” Danarius replied as he finished the single line that reached from just below Leto’s chin to just above his navel and began the branches that fanned out from it curve about his pectorals. “There is no need for you to fear either. You shall always be my Leto, My little wolf.” Danarius caught his eye. “I have full faith that nothing will go wrong.” Danarius eagerness was practically pulsating, almost a physical force that surrounded him and made the room seam a bit brighter, as if electrified. 

 

Leto tried not to squirm as Danarius painted the branching pattern on his chest and abdomen. It tickled - but he couldn't afford to accidentally mess up the design. "I don't think anything will go wrong. I trust you, master. I just..." 

Lyrium was a tricky resource, known to cause madness to those exposed to too much. Would he turn mad, over time? He wanted to remain just as he was, and hoped that would be the case. He had to tell himself it would be, that he would be unchanged, mentally, no matter what. He would always be Leto - he would always be his master's Wolf. 

Licking his lips, Leto studied his master's face, memorized the concentrated furrow of his brow, the excitement that made his eyes seem to glow. His heart beat a little faster. 

"I would like to tell you-" he started, then stopped, uncertain. Did he really want to do this - now of all times?

 

Barely flicking his eyes to Leto’s face Danarius hummed his acknowledgment, concentrating instead on the sloping lines that fallowed the curve of Leto’s hip. 

When no response was forthcoming Danarius looked up fully, brush poised to continue. Leto eyes flicking from Danarius face to the wall behind him and back again. “Tell me what my Fenris? Surely you do not need something else?This isn’t about your sister is it?” 

 

Leto was surprised to hear Varania brought into the conversation. True to his word he had not told his family the entire truth about the ritual - he had not even told them of his current misfortune, he had sent word only that he would be assisting Danarius in a spell soon. Varania had been uncertain, but of course it was because she did not trust anyone. But she was a Mage herself; she knew the great things magic could accomplish, especially when a Mage was as talented as their master. 

Leto had not been worried about Varania. Not until now, now that all his worries were converging upon him. "She will be upset when she finds out about this, but... She will forgive me." Unless he the ritual didn't succeed.

Danarius snorted dissuasively, bending back to his work. Down, around the curve of Leto’s knee back up to almost brush the bottom of Leto’s smalls. “If it is not your sister that bothers you, then what?”

Leto would need to be repositioned soon so that Danarius could access his back. The Tattoos where going to me a marvel not only in there function but also aesthetically, almost organic in there form, fallowing the shape of Leto’s body, drawing the eye down and then back up, accentuating the muscles Leto had developed of late. 

The brush moved down his leg, and Leto curled and uncurled his fingers to relieve some of the nervous tension building inside of him. He should just out and say it. Now that he'd brought it up Danarius wouldn't let the subject drop so easily. For the most part he liked when Leto spoke his mind. 

It was just... There was no easy way to say it. The words were not simple, and they represented something so fragile and tender. 

"No matter how confident I am this will succeed, there's still always a chance that there might be.. Something that goes awry," Leto explained slowly. "And I just.. In case something happens, I want- I want you to know how I feel..."

His voice trailed off, cheeks and ears burning red with embarrassment over that mess of a confession. What a fool he sounded like! 

But that was not even the end of his foolishness. In some daring bout of lovesick stupidity, he actually reached out and grabbed the front of Danarius's robe, pulling the magister down so he could press their lips together in a hesitant kiss.

Cool soft lips brushed his own with almost teasing softness before Danarius yanked himself back. Shock and surprise clearly written across his face fallowed by a tiny flash of fear before it was all shut away behind his iron control. Collecting his wits Danarius retrieved the brush from where it had fallen and went back to painting the marks for a moment before stoping once more to speak, not quite meeting Leto’s eye.

“Leto, you will always be like a brother to me, But it would be best for both our sakes if you where to put such feelings from your mind. I can not return them and they will only lead to your own unhappiness.” With his own feeling on the matter thus connived Danarius instructed Leto to turn over so he might apply the lines to his back.

 

Feeling somewhat hollow inside, he obeyed his masters wish and turned into his stomach.   
Why had he done that? Why was he such a colossal fool? Nothing could come of it - he'd known that. Even if Danarius did, by some miracle, return his feelings, they could never have such a relationship. Danarius was married, for one thing - a loveless marriage, but still. A magister for another, with a reputation to uphold; he could never lower himself by having feelings for his slave. Relations, maybe, but nothing beyond the physical - and Danarius was too good a man to take advantage of Leto in that way. 

Brothers. It was better than nothing, Leto supposed. At least Danarius cared something for him. 

It didn't make the pain any less."I can't just put it from my mind," he stupidly continued, glad Danarius could not see the emotion on his face, the weakness. "I feel it Constantly. I can't just make it go away."

 

Danarius let out something close to a soft growl in frustration, concentrating on keeping the lines perfectly placed as if to block out the unwanted conversation by shear force of will. 

“If you can not stop it then at the very lest do not speak of it. You are young Leto, and do not fully understand what you are feeling.” his words where clipped, his motions while moments ago had been soft almost loving in there cress where not sharp and efficient. “It will pass, and when it dose you will thank me.” 

Leto flushed angrily, resisting the urge to curl is hands into tight fists. Danarius spoke to him as if he was a child, incapable of distinguishing his wants, not a grown man who'd had several years to learn the difference between just an embarrassing dream produced by hormones and actually having feelings for someone. Leto may not share his master's genius intellect, but he wasn't stupid. Not about this, at least. 

It was even worse than just having his affections rejected. Danarius did not take him seriously. 

He should stop. He was only embarrassing himself with this pathetic inability to just let it go. But the words tumbled out, desperate. "Is it because I'm a man?" He wondered. "An elf?" Softer, "a slave?"  
“All of the above are valid reason to forget the idea, Leto.” Danarius voice was soft almost consoling but held an undercurrent of command. laying the brush aside Danarius turned to begin cleaning up. “If you insist upon pursuing this childish line of thought, I must insist that you do so after the trials. for now I will hear no more on the matter.”

Bitterness curled in the pit of his stomach, equal parts directed at Danarius and at himself. If the man cared even a little bit he would have had the courtesy to continue with the charade of seeing Leto as a brother of sorts. But these words made it plain: Leto was not worthy of Danarius's affection because he was an elf and a slave. He was less than Danarius and always would be. 

He wished the table would swallow him up. He wished his legs would work so he could run and hide somewhere. 

Part of him even wished the ritual would kill him. 

But that was selfish, wasn't it? He was doing this for Danarius, to protect Danarius. Because even if Danarius didn't feel anything, it didn't change the fact that Leto loved him. 

Defeated, he closed his eyes. "Yes, master."


End file.
